The Second Holy Grail War
by Archeron
Summary: Three thousand years ago, the Greek Gods decided to create a mythical object - The Holy Grail, an object designed to grant one wish, any wish. This story chronicles the events leading up to the the Second Holy Grail War and the war itself. Rated T for language.
1. Overture

**Overture**

* * *

"3000 years ago, the most powerful Gods at the time – Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Apollo, Hermes, Ares, and Athena—pledged to combine their powers to develop a Holy Grail, an item said to grant unlimited wishes. However, as soon as they found that the Grail could only grant the wish of one person, all hope for cooperation was lost. That was the beginning of the Holy Grail War – a conflict that ended up fundamentally changing the course of the world.

"The Grail itself, when developed, exhibited strange properties. It seemed to have its own sentient personality as it was created, and it in fact selected recipients of the Grail to battle it out. But each recipient of the Grail was in fact allowed to bring back a legendary hero, a heroic spirit, a servant, to do battle for them. The conclusion of the battle decided who was most deserving of the Grail.

And so 3000 years ago, seven people were selected – ordinary people – who represented each God. And they fought for the Grail. And the winner of the Holy Grail War – Paris, a prince of Troy, a son of Zeus, wished for the most beautiful woman in the world, Helen. And thus, the Trojan War began, and the world was plunged into calamity.

The Holy Grail was said to reappear once every three thousand years."

-_From the manuscript of Iseult Ulthwe_


	2. Introit

**Introit**

* * *

_Percy - 12 months before_

"Mr. Jackson? Your office is ready. Follow me."

Stepping carefully over the white sidewalk filled with leaves, Percy made his way through the ivory white doors of the Apple Campus. It was the beginning of fall, when the leaves began to make their descent from a bright green to murky oranges and vivid yellows. No longer did the sun fill the air with sweat and exhaustion, and the breezes brought chills instead of relief. The sunlight, however, still shined bright, turning the young attendant's blonde hair in front of him into a web of gold.

Percy walked through the building, holding up his card when necessary to pass the security doors. He walked with a weariness in his step. The once raven black suit he had on had turned into a faded gray, and his boots no longer shone but instead looked dull and somber. Gone was the excited teenager who had once defeated hydras and minotaurs and saved Olympus – in its place was a tired man who looked sad and wistful. "The years haven't been so good for me," Percy thought ruefully.

Within a few minutes, they arrived at his office. Percy smiled at the young attendant and stepped inside, noting the beautiful view that his new office provided. It was both spacious and luxurious, holding an executive desk with a projector aimed at the side wall. Yet it seemed like it lacked furnishings, and so when the attendant left, he unpacked his suitcase and brought out a few treasured relics of the past, treasured memories that he held dear. A conch horn that reminded him of the sea. A blue ribbon that reminded him of his mother. A golden pen by the name of Riptide. And as he slowly placed objects here and there, Percy felt the pangs of nostalgia that threatened to drag him into memories long buried and forgotten. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was eleven. Stretching out his back, he sat down in his chair and booted up the computer and got to work.

Seven hours later, he emerged out of the Apple building. Hopping into his car, a luxurious blue BMW, he drove slowly back to his apartment flat, a mere five minutes away from his workplace. As he drove, he thought about all the things at work he would have to do tomorrow – finish the report on the budget allotted for projects, talk with his manager regarding an issue plaguing his computer, and so many things that were boring and time-consuming. Letting out a long sigh, he slowly decelerated to a stop at a red light. And as he sat there, his mind began to reminisce…

He thought of himself, at the age of 25, happily proposing to Annabeth. It was on the day of her birthday, July 23rd, when he had the most brilliant idea ever – to invite her to Manhattan, to the restaurant she loved the most – _Daedalus_ – the restaurant she designed herself, and after a romantic dinner and a boat ride along the Hudson River he decided to surprise her with a wedding ring. Being the son of Poseidon, he had the idea of having a dolphin swim up to the boat and present the ring to her, but being the awkward klutz he was, it ended up backfiring badly when the dolphin jumped over the boat and caused the boat to collapse. But it all worked out in the end, and in a mere three months afterwards, Percy Jackson and Annabeth were married in a fantastic ceremony at Camp Half-Blood with the blessing of Chiron. Those were happier times…

HONK! Brought to the real world by an angry driver behind him, Percy Jackson hurriedly pressed the gas. The car rocketed forward, and he arrived at his apartment – a sparse, quaint 6 room apartment with little extras. Making his way up the rickety stairs, he made his way up to the fourth floor. At the fourth floor, there was only one resident – him – who lived there. There used to be other residents, but they had gradually moved out in search of better living conditions. Percy however had stayed due to the pleasant memories he had of this place, and had instead used his money to renovate the apartment despite it being cheaper to simply buy a new home.

He inserted his key in and opened the door. "I'm back!" Percy said. Closing the door, he walked in to his home and dropped his suitcase along the wall, making a crackling sound. It was no surprise. The walls were a brownish blue and the paint had begun to crack, clearly displaying their age. A layer of dust coated the countertop, clinging like gnats on a dog. Cobwebs littered the corners and the sound of the little pattering of mice and cockroaches were faint but noticeable. Percy, however, paid all of this no mind. Turning on the lights, he plopped down onto a chair and twiddled his thumbs before going over to the fridge. It came unstuck slowly revealing a bunch of microwaveable foods, some bagels with blue cream cheese, and a few bottles of beer. He took a bottle of beer and popped the microwaveable noodles into the microwave. After a minute, Percy got to work on his dinner and slowly consumed the entire meal. He did the dishes, pushed the chair into the table and walked over to his room like a man walking to his execution. It had been two hours.

Knowing that he was going to have to wake up early tomorrow at six like usual, Percy settled in for bed. But before he slept, he glanced over at a picture. The picture that he and Annabeth had when they got married. He looked into it, seeing the bright cheerful face of Annabeth, the blonde curls framing her gray eyes and lips puckered up in a smile, and the grinning face of himself, confident and happy, with his arms tucked protectively around her. Looking at the picture sadly, Percy felt tears come to his eyes. But he bravely brushed them away and whispered, "Night Annabeth." He tucked himself in and was asleep soon afterwards.

* * *

_Iseult – 10 months before_

"Dr. Uthwe?"

Iseult looked up to find the docent staring at her with a confused expression. Oh my. Judging by that expression, she probably had been whispering out loud to herself again. She _hated_ it when that happened. "Yes?"

"You've got quite the crowd here. Are you ready? Do you need any more time?"

Iseult forced a smile on her face. "No, I don't need any more time. I'm ready for my presentation." Inside, however, her mind was racing with nervousness and anticipation. It was her do-or-die moment, where she would finally unveil the research she had done over the past few years. She was convinced – firmly convinced, that her theory was correct and that she would finally gain the respect she deserved. Her father had finally managed to secure her an audience with one of the most prestigious colleges – the Massachusetts's Institute of Technology – and she was determined to make a name for herself here.

"I assume many of you are familiar with the Greek Gods and Goddesses," the headmaster announced. "This presentation here today involves one of the leading authorities on the subject – Iseult Uthwe. Although considered a nonsensical subject by some, she has taken her work extremely seriously and I believe she will be an inspiration for some of those out there. I've yet to see anyone else who brings the same level of dedication and passion to her work that others bring to theirs. Please welcome – Dr. Uthwe!"

Iseult strode nervously to the stage, darting glances at the sizeable crowd. Probably a thousand people had gathered to watch her speech regarding the subject of the Greek Gods. It was a beautiful autumn day, and in the atrium of the college, the sun's bright rays shone down the glass ceiling framing her and the audience in light. Leaves fell from the trees sending multicolored light scattering in all directions. Truly, she could not have wished for better conditions. "Now if my speech is as good…" she thought to herself.

"Many of you have heard of the Greek Gods. Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Apollo, Artemis, Hades, Hermes, Athena, Aphrodite, and the others. Legendary Gods that wielded tremendous powers and took an active role in dictating the way of the world. They were written about and worshipped excessively by the Greeks three thousand years ago, before the Romans adopted their religion. However, gradually, they faded out of existence along with the decline of the Roman Empire, and modern day historians all agree that the Greek Gods never existed."

"However, the Greek Gods never faded away. They were alive, and they're still alive."

At this bold proclamation, many in the audience laughed. More than a few eyebrows were raised, and snickers could be heard throughout the crowd. "They think I'm a fool!" Iseult raged inwardly, her eyebrows knitting into slants.

Hurriedly, she continued, "I know many of you find yourselves in disbelief. I was in disbelief as well. But then, I went to locations where supernatural activity have occurred and acquired evidence myself. Did anyone not find it strange that everyone in the entire city of Manhattan reported feeling as if they had lost five hours from the day? I have talked to residents of the city and they swear that they thought time suddenly sped up!" Iseult exclaimed. "In other instances people have said they have actually seen the Gods in person! They exist, and they are among us!"

Her loud outburst echoed throughout the hall, silencing the crowd. As Iseult looked across, she could see many emotions, but one struck out at her the most. Pity. After a long pause, the silence was broken by a handsome young man who stood up and asked, "If these Gods really do exist…how come we can't see them? Why have they hidden themselves away from society instead of revealing themselves to us? If they are the influential omniscient beings legends have talked about, why is it that they changed from meddling into the affairs of men to withdrawing into seclusion?"

It was a very good question. Despite her years of research on that very question, Iseult had never been able to find the answer to this. Based on the sheer amount of literature written about the Gods during the age of Greece, Iseult was absolutely convinced that they had existed at the time…but for some strange reason, the Gods simply dissipated and lost their influence on the world in the years afterward. However, still stinging with bitterness, Iseult quickly retaliated with,

"We've never seen the Christian God nor heard nor felt his presence in the world. Yet through the world, billions worship him daily. Does that mean the Christian God doesn't exist either?" Yet as soon as these words left her lips, she felt regret immediately and wished she could take them back.

To her consternation, it was not the student who replied, but rather the headmaster who was standing right next to her. "God exists in the hearts of good people, not in the hearts of _charlatans and liars_," the Headmaster admonished like a teacher talking to a child. "I wouldn't expect a foolish young lady like you to understand."

Iseult felt heat rise to her cheeks, but before she could reply, the Headmaster continued. "This is the end of the discussion. Let this be a lesson to all. Thank you, Dr. Uthwe, for coming." Yet his sharp, acrid tone suggested anything but that.

Furious and humiliated once again, Iseult stormed out of the atrium, wondering what she was to accomplish in life, if anything.

* * *

_Kirei – 6 months before_

The streets descending Vatican Hill were unique in that they did not follow a straight path down, instead radiating out like petals of a golden flower. Shops and businesses littered the street; despite the Vatican City having a low official population, thousands of merchants crowded the famed city looking to sell their wares to important clergy men. Immense ramparts framed the city, nearly thirty paces deep and the same in height, ensuring that the only the welcome were allowed in the esteemed Christian town of the Vatican City. And deep in the Vatican City, a clergyman by the name of Kirei Kotomine walked alongside with a black, hooded figure in a beautiful, secluded cathedral not shown to the general public.

"This mark on my hand…you say this is proof that I have been entered in this Holy Grail War?" Kirei asked the hooded man.

"There can be no doubt," The man replied. "You have been selected as a participant of the Holy Grail War. It is exceptional that someone like you – a priest, with no clear affiliation with any of the Gods or with any miraculous magical talent – has been selected."

"What is this Holy Grail War?" Kirei asked, still unconvinced.

The hooded man sighed. Kirei Kotomine, an elderly man in his fifties, was a black man of the church who carried out his roles as an executor, an expert assassin. He was unremarkable in his appearance, with brown hair surrounding a slightly tanned face and a hooked nose. The only offsetting thing was his eyes, a stormy, mercurial gray color that was most unusual. In fact, the only other time he had ever seen such eyes was in descendants of Athena…

"We have long awaited the Holy Grail War, a magical war that was established nearly 3000 years ago by the Greek Gods," The hooded man said, knitting his hands together as they walked along the cathedral. "The Holy Grail selects seven people – seven representatives of each God – and grants them a servant, a mythical hero from the past to do battle in the present."

"Seven servants?" Kirei asked.

"Seven familiars essentially. These seven are great people that left their mark in history and are willing to represent each God in the Holy Grail War. They are 'Heroic Spirits' and they are on a completely different level than the usual spirits talented mages summon. In order to summon a Heroic Spirit, you will need a relic of the hero and a summoning ritual. Summoning a heroic spirit who contradicts your personality or is against your God will result in an incomplete summoning."

Kirei sighed. It sounded very particular and specific to him. "And I don't even know if what he's saying is true yet!" He thought. "However, if what he's been saying is true, then I need as much information as possible…"

"So how do you win and obtain the Holy Grail?" At this question, the hooded man smiled. With evident relish, he replied,

"You must be the last man standing. The only way to completely win the war is to either eliminate every single other master or make them voluntarily forfeit. Forfeiting the war will result in those markings on your hand, those command seals, to transfer to me. I am not a participant of this war – I am the mediator, the envoy that the Gods have sent below in order to ensure that the war runs smoothly."

Kirei thought for a moment. "And if you win the war?"

The hooded man's response was swift. "Three wishes will be granted – one of your's, one of your servant's, and one of your God's."

"And if the servant wishes to cause me harm?"

"It cannot happen. In order to be a heroic spirit, the servant must have expressed regret during their death and wished dearly for one true desire – something that they want above all else. Ironically though, most famous heroes of the past have something they clearly regret, so let this not be a limitation in summoning your desired hero."

Kirei smiled. He was a man who never found pleasure in life no matter what he did. He couldn't understand how people lived their life with passion or had any desires. He had no sense of purpose, and Kirei knew it. Kirei was disgusted by himself daily, wishing deeply that he could find something, anything, to dedicate his life to. He lived each day hoping that God would show him the way. But inside, he knew. God wasn't going to grant him salvation.

However, this man, this suspicious hooded man, might have finally brought him what he was looking for.

* * *

_Tristana – 5 months before_

Tristana Grace, twelve years old, was a beautiful girl by any standard. Long, lush, chocolate hair cascaded down to her thighs, rippling in waves like a shaking waterfall. Her eyes were large and lidded, a beautiful blue color, and her slim body already helped emphasize who she was: a granddaughter of Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love.

Tristana didn't usually eavesdrop, but she couldn't resist after hearing her father raise his voice with her mother. Her father _never_ raised his voice. Hunched over near her parent's bedroom, she pressed her ear against the smooth white wall and listened.

"I know you don't like it, Pipes, but that's what Zeus has decreed. I'm his only son! Zeus needs someone to represent him, and I'm the only man for the job," her father proclaimed.

"But what about the children? What about me? Are you just going to abandon us and go on another adventure?" Her mother sounded frantic, the melodious voice an octave higher than usual. "What if…you lose?"

Her father laughed. "Me? Lose? A son of Jupiter?" Judging by his tone of voice, her father felt that him losing was impossible. Deep down inside, Tristana suddenly felt proud of her father.

"Our adventures stopping Gaia were far more dangerous than this. How powerful can the other participants be? And Jupiter himself has assured me that he has located the most powerful servant for me to control." Fading to a whisper, her father murmured, "In fact, let me show you the relic. It's _amazing_."

Tristana heard a thump sound, as if something was thrown onto the ground. And then she heard the sound of a blade being pulled from its scabbard. Unable to resist, Tristana tiptoed her way over to the door and began to ease it open, slightly, before bringing her head across….

A golden blade, seemingly bursting with the light of the sun, lay lovingly in the hands of her father. Tristana's eyes widened. There was no mistaking it. Everyone knew the name of that famous blade, and the famous knight who wielded it. As she ran her eyes across, she knew that her father's enemies would have no chance.

For the blade's name was…

_Excalibur_.

* * *

A/N: Well, thank you for reading my first two chapters of The Second Holy Grail War! For those of you that are wondering, yes, this is loosely based off of the _Fate_ series, but I'm adding my own take to it and adding in OC characters. If you liked this story, don't hesitate to review; if you hated this story, don't hesitate to review either – all feedback is appreciated. Thanks in advance!

Regarding Suggestions: I am highly open to suggestions. I have already the main plot structured with my idea of how the story is going to progress but any suggestions you have to making the characters better, the story more convincing, where you think I should progress will be taken into consideration.

Regarding Updates: I am notoriously bad with maintaining stories, but at the moment you can expect updates every 1-2 weeks. Reason being that it's winter break and I'm horribly bored.

Regarding Criticism: Go ahead and hit me with your worst.

Regarding Rating: There will be ample warning before chapters if any questionable content – sex, language, or disturbing plots – is ever inserted. Right now, I don't think I will be inserting any overly inflammatory content, hence the rating, but if it is ever inserted, I will change the rating and add the warnings.

Regarding Questions: There's never a bad question. Send any questions you have to me - preferably via review - and I will get back to you asap.


	3. Partita

**Partita**

* * *

"_This is where they last saw him right?" asked Annabeth, her eyebrows taut with worry._

"_That's what Octavian said." Percy replied. "He said him and a legion had come across the satyr a few days ago, walking into this dark passage."_

"_Why didn't they follow him?" To this question, Percy gave a terse shrug. He had no idea why the legion, normally so courageous, didn't investigate the matter further. Only two weeks ago, Juniper had come crying into Camp Half-Blood saying that Grover was missing. Streaming with tears, her hair in a complete mess, she begged them for help. He and Annabeth, at that time already married, had originally planned to be there for just a day, but when they saw the distraught wood nymph, they couldn't resist helping. And so for the next two weeks, they asked anyone they could find, but no one had seen the satyr…until Octavian of Camp Jupiter iris messaged them a few hours ago letting them know they had found him here, in San Francisco, in this dark, abandoned passageway._

_ The passageway looked suspicious. Filled with darkness, it looked as if it was quite deep and narrow. Only just a few years ago, Percy would have immediately classified it as a monster den, but after the fall of Gaia, every monster had been sent back to Tartarus. However, years of habit stuck with him, and he decided to uncap Riptide as a precaution._

_ Percy held out his hand. Smiling, Annabeth grasped his hand tightly and together, they walked into the cave. She pulled out a flashlight and turned it on, its bright light illuminating a small circle in the darkness. _

_ "Eww. The cave smells terrible," Percy complained, snorting out of his nose in an attempt to get rid of the smell. "What used to live here – trolls?"_

_ Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Seaweed-brain, trolls don't exist anymore. C'mon, let's hurry up and see what we can find and get out of this place."_

_ After a few winding paths, the cave then opened up to reveal an abandoned metro station. Looking around, Percy could make out ticket booths, posters, and quite a bit of rubble piled along the sides. The train itself was still there, sitting in the middle like a sausage in a hot dog. Annabeth, however, immediately saw something else._

_ "What's that inside the train?" She sprinted forward, hopping into the train with her flashlight in hand. Percy followed her, his eyes darting around for any signs of trouble. Inside the train, they saw blood, red as cranberries, splattered across the walls. But what was most disconcerting was the figure pinned to the end. Grover, the satyr, was dead. Someone had pinned his hooves to the corners and stripped him, almost like a crucifixion, with his eyes staring blankly forward. It was disgusting, and Percy couldn't help but take a few steps backward, feeling himself retch inwardly._

_ "How could they do this?" Tears brimmed in the eyes of Annabeth as she too staggered backwards, horrified. "What did Grover ever do to them? He was a peaceful satyr—"_

_ All of a sudden, her words were cut short. The train doors closed with a whoosh, leaving Annabeth alone. In the train._

_ "Annabeth!" Percy roared, running forward. Raising his blade, he tried to cut the door open…but for some strange reason the blade wouldn't go through. But that wasn't the least of his concerns. With a screeching sound, the train began to move…at first slowly, but then picking up like a bullet. Percy screamed. He leapt forward, intending to hold on to the train, but the train was smooth and moving too fast. He slammed into the side, flipped on his back, and landed on the side in pain. And through his eyes, he could see the train depart, its destination unknown. Annabeth…was gone._

* * *

_Octavian – 4.5 months before_

Octavian was having a most peculiar day.

For one thing, his dream today was actually good. Fantastic In his dream, Jason had been slain by a spear, and a tearful Reyna came up to him in evident distress. He had comforted her, and she was so distraught that he had even managed to kiss her.

Looking back on it though, he knew that sadly, Reyna kissing him was about as likely to happen as Poseidon killing a dolphin. And yet when he woke up in his silk sheets, when he pulled himself out of bed and gave a tremendous yawn, he saw something just as impossible: a complex lattice of interwoven red marks on his hand, shining a bright neon red. Naturally, since he had no memory of getting a tattoo on his hand, he sat there for a few minutes gaping in stark disbelief. After confirming that he wasn't dreaming, he hurried his fat self over to the bathroom and got to work.

Soap didn't work. Neither did a razor. Octavian, being an experienced mage, even tried some spells of banishment, including a particularly nasty one that would've vaporized a person. That didn't work too. And it was in the confused state where a black hooded man snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jump out of his pants.

"Yes?!" Octavian exclaimed, his pudgy face making a pig-like confused expression.

And after an hour of explanation, Octavian learned that the red mark meant he was part of some war, that he was representing his Dad Apollo – quite surprising really, since his Dad always regarded him as a failure – and that the winner would have a prize, any prize that they desired.

Octavian was a greedy man, and as soon as he heard of this magical prize, his eyes widened. He already had wealth – shrewd investments and the exploitation of his coworkers saw to that; he already had fame – he was a household name and had celebrities party at his place every week; but what he didn't have was love. Specifically, Reyna. Despite being able to literally buy any woman into a marriage with him, he was always rebuffed coldly by Reyna every time he asked her to a date or over to his house. In fact, she disliked him so much that she even rejected all of his Facebook friend requests. Octavian, being the calculating person he was, put two and two together and blamed Jason for everything. Jason had stolen all of the credit of defeating Gaia. Jason had stolen his right to be the leader of Camp Jupiter. And now, Jason had even stolen Reyna away from him. He was furious, and one of his most important goals in life was to beat Jason at one thing, anything, no matter the cost.

Yet now all of this was possible with the magic of the Holy Grail.

* * *

_Judal – a few years before_

Everything went downhill when his parents died in a car crash.

At first, the words had no meaning. "Your parents have died in a car crash, kiddo," a police officer said. "I'm sorry. You'll probably be going to an orphanage, it doesn't seem like you have any close relatives."

Judal, just five at the time, thought to himself, "What's a car crash?" He had no idea that at just five years of age, he was left parentless. Nor had he any idea of the hell that was soon to come.

At the orphanage, Judal just didn't get along. Others never seemed to come close to him, and he was left friendless and alone all the time. Teachers and peers kept their distance from this young boy, and as a result he lived his first few years always away from others. He had his own bed, a few rags along the floor, in the corner of a closet, far away from the room the other kids shared. During lunch, he would take his food elsewhere and eat it alone. But he was a polite boy, and the plate was always brought back, spotless and clean, and handed nicely back to the "food lady".

Perhaps it was his inability to cry that frightened the other children. Normally, after the first night at the orphanage, most children ended up crying all night, wondering with tearful eyes what fate had in store for them, knowing that they were left alone in this hard, cruel world. Judal never made a sound.

Perhaps it was his voice that frightened the other children. Other children had voices filled with their emotion – high pitched voices when they were happy or excited, long dragged out voices when they were upset, or choking voices when they were having a tantrum. Judal always spoke in a monotone, his voice flat and devoid of all human emotion.

Yet all of this was bearable. The people working at the orphanage truly were nice people, and sensing that Judal wanted to be left alone, they wisely left him to his own thoughts. However, everything changed when the doctor arrived.

"Judal?" The lady called to him. "Doctor Leach has arrived. He's here for your checkup."

With his usual impassive expression, Judal walked slowly over to the tall figure in the doorway. He was in his usual place – the spacious closet where he liked to look at books or imagine out games in his head or sometimes even look at other kids play – but this was a first for him, to be called out to do something. Secretly, he was excited.

"Judal?" The doctor said, smiling and extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Yet as Judal brought his own hand out, he could sense that something was wrong with this man. Every single fiber in his body was screaming out loud for him to get away from this man, that he was dangerous, that he needed to get away. And so he obeyed his intuition and quickly pulled his hand back.

"A little feisty eh?" The doctor said. "He clearly needs some treatment. You said he has problems with other children?"

"Well, kind of…" The lady responded. "It was just a passing comment; I'm sure he doesn't need – "

"Young kids need to be fixed early, else the problem could be permanent," The doctor replied, the ends of his lips curling upwards. "I'll take him with me. Give me a week to do therapy on him; I guarantee he'll be better."

A week passed, and Judal returned to the orphanage. The lady was immediately set at ease by how Judal immediately began to talk with other children, to interact with others, and how he moved his sleeping rags over to the others. The therapy was pronounced to be a huge success, and Doctor Leach became a celebrity overnight.

But that night, Judal did not sleep easily. Instead, before he succumbed to sleep, he swore one thing.

That he would kill Doctor Leach and make him pay.

* * *

_Arcturus – 4 months before_

"A Holy Grail you say?" Arcturus asked, smiling. "Seems like it would be interesting."

Out of all the people the hooded man had met so far to inform them of their selection by the Grail, this man scared him the most. He was a retired doctor who had a smile like a shark, with rows of canine teeth and eyes resembling two red slits. Thin and pale, his sallow skin looked bleached and unhealthy, almost like a recluse who never went outside. But what was most uncomfortable was his smiling. "My God," the hooded man thought. "Does he ever stop smiling?"

Arcturus paced the floor of his mansion, deep in thought. What confused him the most was why he, someone who had everything in life and could do whatever he wanted with impunity, was given a chance to get the Grail. He chuckled slowly. "Maybe this is a sign from the Gods that what I've been doing thus far with my life is a good thing," He thought to himself.

"You said I needed a relic?" He asked the hooded man.

"A relic is required to summon the legendary hero. In exactly a month from now, on the last day of August, you will be able to summon your familiar to assist you in this war."

"A relic eh…" Arcturus' voice faded off as he looked around his gloomy mansion. It was a beautiful mansion, dark with a Victorian flair, that was lavishly decorated with all sorts of paintings and artifacts. And a bunch of these artifacts could surely be used for summoning a hero – a cloak that was said to have belonged to Joan of Arc, a spear that was possessed by a knight named Diarmuid, even a shuriken that belonged to a ninja – but Arcturus had in mind something far more sinister. His eyes landed on a piece of wood shaped like an arrow. "Yes, I have a perfect one in mind…"

* * *

A/N: Thank for reading the second chapter on my story, Partita. The plot thickens! By now, every single one of the participants of the Second Holy Grail War has been revealed and so next chapter likely will be the summoning of the heroic spirits. Don't hesitate to leave a review – I appreciate all feedback, negative or positive. :D


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